


Downright Sisyphean

by duinath



Category: Graceland (TV)
Genre: M/M, it’s just me cracking myself up, none of this goes anywhere, the pairing goes nowhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:08:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22796062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duinath/pseuds/duinath
Summary: Johnny is trying to keep it together, but literally no one is helping.
Relationships: Carlito Solano/Johnny Tuturro
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Downright Sisyphean

"Please, Carlito," Johnny says. "You can't do this, not to your sister."

He might as well be talking to himself.

"I can't? You really think you can tell me what to do, now?" Carlito strokes the back of his hand down Johnny's chest, making him twitch.

"Carlito..." Johnny takes half a step back, only to have Carlito follow.

"I think you've forgotten how this works. I tell you, Johnny. You don't tell me." Carlito taps at Johnny's cheek, and Johnny turns his head away.

Carlito leans in, his breath hot on Johnny's neck, and Johnny jerks out of the dream like a shot from a gun. His heart is racing, his breath is coming in heavy gasps and... No. He just woke up, it doesn't mean anything.

How screwed up would he have to be to get off on that shit? It's just adrenaline, fucking... morning wood. He probably just needs to take a damn leak, that's all. But God, does he wish he didn't ever have to see Carlito again.

God may love Johnny, but the courts do not.

Carlito is being an uncooperative little bitch, (what else is new) and for some stupid ass reason the higher ups think he'll respond better if Johnny's the one asking the questions. Now, Johnny tried to explain to them that Carlito is crazy like a rabid weasel, but they didn't want to hear it. So now, Johnny's gotta get all gussied up and trek out to the detention facility where Carlito is being kept so Carlito can curse at him some more.

Yay.

Whatever. It's his job, right? He gets his monkey suit on, he drives out there, in Mike's car, because Johnny's got a theory that Mike's 'better qualities' are almost entirely reliant on people asking him for help in ways he can actually manage without going all weird on everybody.

Look, if you got a better idea you can let him know, but so far it's working. Mike likes helping people, so Johnny lets him. Everybody's happy.

Except Briggs.

Nevermind that.

He goes to the damn detention center, in his damn monkey suit, and, of course, Carlito looks at him like he's a chippendale dancer come to shake his groin in Carlito's face.

Shit. Carlito's face. It's healing okay, Johnny guesses, but... Jesus.

Anyway. Have you ever had somebody look at you like they're dying of thirst and you're the tallest coolest drink of water they've ever seen in their life? No? Neither had Johnny, back in the day.

Carlito never looks at him any other way, not any more. He's dying of thirst, and Johnny's just right there, an inch out of his reach. He hates him for it, Johnny knows.  
It's really fucking disturbing.

And it's weird, too. When Johnny first walked into Carlito and Lucia's barbie dream castle, he didn't look at him like that at all. Like, he was indifferent at best, okay?  
...Honestly, Johnny knows he meant to shoot him. Would he do that, if he wanted to fuck him?

Well. It is Carlito. Still, though.

"It's good to see you, Johnny," Carlito tells him, which is a real change from what he said when Johnny was dragging his beat ass back to the border.

Johnny doesn't bother with platitudes, just sits down and frowns at Carlito for a while. He can't believe this shit. He can't believe he didn't realize earlier. Higher ups don't have any reason to expect Carlito to cooperate. Or, they wouldn't, unless... "You asked for me?"

"I wanted to see you," Carlito confirms, and Johnny sighs.

"Why?"

Carlito tilts his head, considering. He's looking at Johnny's mouth, Johnny can practically feel it, and he really wishes he'd stop. He doesn't fidget, though. He just looks at Carlito, his face blank and cold.

Johnny? Is a professional. Don't you forget it.

"How is my sister?" Carlito asks.

Ugh. "Good, I guess," Johnny says. "I mean, she's far away from you, so." He sits back in his chair, and Carlito tisks at him.

"That's hurtful, Johnny. But, I thought you two were," he looks thoughtful for a moment, and then waves a hand, "in love. Weren't you going to ride off into the sunset together?"

"Yeah, well. Life ain't a fairytale, okay." Johnny shakes his head, mostly at himself. Why does he keep doing this? "What do you want, Carlito?"

"She dumped you?" Carlito covers his mouth, which is stupid, because it's not like Johnny needs to see his mouth to know he's fucking delighted.

"What do you want, Carlito?" Johnny is done, okay. He is just. Done.

And apparently, Carlito can tell, because he sobers. "The question is, Johnny, what do you want? And what will you give me for it?"

Johnny stares. "You know the FBI isn't your personal escort service, right? I'm not gonna blow you in the bathroom."

Carlito barks a laugh. "If wishes were horses, Johnny. But no, I was thinking more like, reduced sentencing."

"Are you serious right now? You've killed people, Carlito. Plural. You have killed multiple people."

"You can't really prove that, can you?" Carlito rubs at his lips, looking into the distance. Johnny takes the opportunity to breathe while Carlito isn't focusing his psycho spotlight of attention on him.

"You really want to talk about what I can prove, Carlito?" Johnny can prove all kinds of shit. Johnny is a reliable witness. Johnny has seen some serious shit, rolling with Carlito. Although... Has he ever actually seen Carlito kill someone? He shot his ...buddy, or whatever the fuck, the first time they met, but Johnny didn't actually see him die. Carlito told him to kill Markham, but... That's still on Johnny. Carlito's word isn't actually law, no matter what he likes to think.

He could still pin Markham on him, he guesses, but. That's a fucking framejob, and Johnny doesn't want to do that. That is a damn slippery slope.

He's still not thinking about Briggs.

He's got Carlito on the human trafficking, and the drug trafficking. He admitted to the girls, at least. He kept Lucia hostage. ...But. Will Lucia testify to that? Yeah, she wanted Carlito dead, but does that mean she'll testify in a court of law?

Shit.

But he did traffic drugs. Or, he tried to. And then Johnny took over. Yay Johnny.

God. He must be forgetting something. And how screwed up is it, that he could forget Carlito murdering someone? Life with Carlito, man. It's a thrill a minute.

He had his father killed, but Johnny can't prove that, and besides, it was in Mexico.

Carlito sucks his teeth at him. Carlito is a god damn snake. "I didn't think so. I can be good to you, Johnny."

"Jesus Christ, Carlito."

"You scratch my back, I scratch yours." Carlito grins at him, and Johnny starts massaging his temples.

"Shit." There is no way. No way in hell.

But what Johnny wants? That doesn't matter. His bosses want this, or he wouldn't be here. Hell. At least they can't order him to give Carlito a sexy dance or anything.

Silver lining.

By the time he gets out of there, he feels rubbed raw, barely holding back a twitch every time Carlito runs his eyes over Johnny's face, his lips, his hands. God damn Carlito, anyway.

Back at Graceland, things are... well. They are what they are. He thanks Mike for the car, asks Charlie and Paige about their cases, and Briggs... the trick with Briggs is, don't tell him shit.

They haven't replaced Jakes yet. Johnny still kinda hopes he'll come back.

He's not sure why.

He'll be going back to see Carlito soon, that's pretty clear. The higher ups want his information, so they're probably cooking up some deal for him right now. Johnny's not totally sure what Carlito's got, honestly. He spent the whole interview switching between evading Johnny's questions and giving him scorching looks.

The good news? There's no fucking way Carlito's getting out any time soon. Except, it turns out that's not totally true.

He gets called in to the office, sits down with his boss and a lawyer, and they tell him they think Carlito's got something good. A bigger fish. They don't care that Carlito is a pirahna, if he's got a shark in his pocket they'll let him walk. Shit like this could make a man lose faith in the system. It really could. But Johnny? He's not Briggs. He'll do his job. He won't pull any vigilante shit.

He won't let Carlito pull any shit, period. Wait, can he do that? Hell, he'll try, anyway.

They send him back in to talk to Carlito again, this time with a pile of papers that could set Carlito free if he plays his hand right. Carlito knows what's in there, Johnny can tell. He doesn't look hungry anymore, just smug.

Then Johnny sits down across from him, and no. Scratch that. He looks hungry *and* smug. When Johnny places the folder on the table, Carlito's eyes track it for the barest moment before returning to Johnny's face. "It's good to see you again so soon, Johnny," he says.

"Yeah, I bet. You ready to talk terms, now?"

"Ay, why so angry, Johnny? This is good for both of us, no?" Carlito grins at him like a shark. "Although, if you will indulge me, there is something I have wondered about since the last time we met."

"Yeah? What's that," Johnny asks. He wonders if Carlito prefers him like this, tired and beat down. You'd think so, right, with the way he acts? But Carlito narrows his eyes at him, pursing his lips, and what. What does he want? Johnny the amazing jack in the box? Knock him down and he springs back up again?

Probably. Carlito was probably one of those kids who'd break their toys and then whine about their toys being broken.

...Johnny is not a toy, god damn it.

"Lucia dumped you, yes?" Carlito tilts his head at him, and Johnny sinks down in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. Ugh.

"Yes, Carlito. She dumped me. You wanna throw a party or something, leave me out of it."

"Why?" He seriously sounds confused. Sociopath.

"Because I'm not happy about it? Because it's not very nice -" he stops. "Oh right. You don't care about what's nice."

Carlito tisks at him. "I meant, why did she dump you."

Johnny stops staring at the ceiling for a second so he can frown at Carlito instead. "Why do you care?"

Carlito looks away very briefly, then shrugs. "Just curious, I suppose. You both did go to an awful lot of trouble, after all."

Johnny sighs. "We're too different. That's what she said."

Carlito's eyebrows go up. "How so?"

Johnny rubs at his head, hating his life for many, many reasons, but mostly because this conversation is being recorded.

Yay.

"We had ...ideological differences," he tries.

Unfortunately, this parts the clouds for Carlito. He snorts, and Johnny hates him. Hates him.

"She went to all that trouble to get out, and then she dropped you, just like that. Just because of your bleeding heart. Oh, Johnny." He shakes his head. "She never understood you at all, did she."

"Right, because you had me figured all along, right?" Johnny smirks nastily. "I didn't fool you for a second."

Carlito narrows his eyes at him, and Johnny is glad that he's still cuffed to the table.  
This is totally counterproductive. Honestly, he's surprised nobody's pulled him out of here yet. Maybe they're all behind the mirror eating popcorn.

"Look, Carlito, I've been authorised to offer you a deal,” he holds up a hand, “provided your information is good."

Carlito keeps up the hostile glare as he says "and you'll do it, even though you hate me. You'll get me out, even though you worked so hard to put me in here." Johnny grinds his teeth, and Carlito continues - "that, Johnny, is the whole point of you. Your... selflessness. Your honor."

Uh.

"Pretty as the package is," oh jesus, did he really just say that. On tape. He hates Carlito so much. "your appeal? Lies in our... ideological differences."

What the hell. What does that even mean? ...Doesn't matter. Johnny takes a deep breath. "...Okay. Carlito. Can you please not talk about my package anymore?" He waves vaguely behind him, at the camera, the mirror, the *erosion* of his dignity.

Carlito starts laughing, and Johnny gives up. He'll try again tomorrow. Better yet, next week. Next month. Next year. Never. Never would be good. Outside the interview room, his boss is giving him a look like she's trying to see the appeal, and Johnny heads for the hills. No. Just no.

He takes the long way back to Graceland, driving aimlessly. In a fair world, it would clear his head. This is the real world, and the first thing he does when he gets back is faceplant into the couch and whine.

"What's this?" Charlie sits down beside him, patting his back.

He curls up on his side. "Fucking Carlito, man."

"What? What are you talking about, Johnny?"

"He's all... talking about me. At me. He's talking about me right to my face, Charlie, this sucks."

Charlie stops patting his back. "Are you serious? Are you whining about some criminal being rude to you, Johnny? Get your big boy panties on."

"Shit. No." Johnny hesitates, not looking at her. "He said..." He stops.

"...What? What did he say?" Charlie pulls at his shirt, and he rolls over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

"....hesaidthati'mselfless."

Charlie stares at him. He can *feel* her staring at him. He is really sick of people looking at him so hard he can physically feel it, that shit is uncomfortable.

"You're telling me -" Charlie grabs his face, turning him to face her. He grimaces at her. "You're telling me he's sitting there, cuffed to the table in an orange jumpsuit, and he's *still* trying to get in your pants?!"

"...maybe."

They look at each other for a while, and then Charlie decides "that is fucked up, Johnny."

"That's what I'm saying!"

"Well, are you going back?"

"I have to!"

"Do you though, Johnny? Do you really?" She's giving him the mom face. God. Not the mom face. He scrambles away to a safer distance.

"It's my job, Charlie," he says, throwing his hands up. Maybe if he can't see the mom face, it won't affect him? He sneaks a peek, and no. Nope. "Look, I'll see you later, alright."

"Johnny -" and now she's got the mom voice, he is out of here.

"Later, Charlie."

Tomorrow has got to be better.

**Author's Note:**

> don’t tell me this makes no sense, i already know. i don’t care. just go with it.


End file.
